


A Better Place to Land

by Vagrant_Blvrd



Series: Kings of Nowhere [43]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe-GTA V, Fake AH Crew, Gen, Pre-Fake AH Crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 21:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagrant_Blvrd/pseuds/Vagrant_Blvrd
Summary: Gavin’s been in trouble before, but nothing like this.





	A Better Place to Land

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for Anon who asked for hacker!Gavin running into the Fake AH Crew, :D?

Nature of his line of work and all. Up until this point he’s been fortunate enough that no one’s been able to identify him, just think of him as an anonymous figure on the other end of a phone call or internet connection.

Granted, there had been the situation in England that made coming to the US seem like a good idea. And that other situation about a year or so later that led Meg to his door and so on. A few close calls since then, but really, nothing like _this_.

Stumbling over a pile of secrets left sitting around where just anyone could find them and realizing too late how important they were. The kind of idiots who’d left said secrets all but unattended discovering someone (Gavin) had found them, and now- 

Well.

Now there are people running about the city looking for him. Nasty little smirks and this look in their eyes like they’re going to enjoy collecting on his bounty. (Dead or alive, or so it goes, and dead is always easier for their sort.)

The worst bit is that there’s nothing impersonal to it at all, with them. No “just business and no hard feelings”, because that he could tolerate. Understand a bit better, but the ones who get sent after him all tend to be of the twisted sort who like their jobs a little too much to be considered wholly sane.

He doesn’t feel nearly as bad as he ought to then, when he catches them in his little traps around the city. The ones he leads straight into the hands of hostile gangs or the police. (Both of which are notoriously territorial and tend to shoot first and ask questions later in this city.)

It works out for a bit, although it’s inconvenient as all hell. Has him running about all over the city and it’s exhausting. So it’s no surprise at all when his luck runs out on him in the figure of the Vagabond and his little friend with appalling fashion sense. (Rimmy something, and he hopes for his sake it’s not his given name, because that would just be cruel.)

They’ve run him to a roadside motel outside the city. First place he’s had time to get more than an hour of sleep at a time and stepping off point to leave Los Santos and his troubles there behind. Maybe go back to England or take Meg up on her offer to cause a little mischief across Europe for a bit, but it looks like those plans aren’t going to happen after all.

(Point of pride, stupid as it is, that he’s led them in circles around the city as long as he has. Cat and mouse and a ruined car or two for them that made it costly for them, although that might come back on him soon enough.)

“Well then, that’s that, is it?” Gavin says, still half asleep because he’s been on the move for days now and exhaustion finally caught up to him. 

That, and the bullet graze from some bastard a few days ago. 

Caught Gavin with his guard down, and he’s still annoyed about that one because it makes running far more painful. (He suspects it might be infected with the way he feels, all tired and slow and stupid and aching all over.)

The Vagabond stares at him. Tall, dark, and menacing in his ridiculously effective outfit as he blocks the only escape route in the room while Rimmy-whatsit pokes around Gavin’s laptop.

Every so often he’ll look over at Gavin like he thinks Gavin will up and hand over his passwords because the Vagabond’s looming over him. (To be fair, it’s a good intimidation tactic, but Gavin’s seen better.)

This wouldn’t be Gavin’s choice of places to die – unbelievably drafty and the carpeting is some ungodly pattern - but he suppose most people don’t get a say in that sort of thing.

Gavin opens his mouth to say something, anything really, because all this silence is unnerving, when a third person bursts through the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, c'mon, we have to leave. Travis’ goons are on their way here. Grab the little shitweasle and let's get the fuck out of here!”

Gavin frowns, because ‘shitweasel’ is a new one, isn’t it - but the Vagabond’s already moving, Pulling Gavin to his feet as he jams a gun against his side.

The new figure starts packing up Gavin’s gear and he catches what looks like a snarling wolf’s head on the back of his jacket as he moves past.

The Vagabond is recognizable enough, and he’s been known to work with others in the past, most notably Rimmy-whatsit.

It’s the one with the wolf on his back that really brings home the amount of trouble Gavin’s found himself in because he must be Mogar, and everyone in the city knows he’s a Fake. (There are rumors starting to make the rounds that the Fakes have managed to snare the Vagabond somehow, and Mogar’s presence is rather damning.)

Gavin’s still coming to terms with that realization, which is why he reacts without thinking when he sees Mogar and the other one packing up his laptop and gear carelessly.

“Hey, be careful with that!” Gavin snaps, and gets a little shake from the Vagabond as a warning.

“Could you not?” the Vagabond asks, first thing Gavin’s heard him say this whole time.

Mild enough, but the hand around Gavin’s arm tightens in time with the pointed jab of the gun in his ribs, and right, right. 

Not really the time.

Gavin ducks his head, fingers twitching as he watches the others treating his gear without the necessary care in their haste to clear out.

He gets shoved into the back of a car idling in front of the motel. Dark red and armored from the looks of her, and Rimmy-whatsit gets in beside him. 

Unspoken threat in the flash of his teeth, and Gavin plays meek and mild because he’s not in the best position at the moment and it pays to be underestimated. 

========

They take him to a warehouse and leave him in a room tied to a chair with Rimmy-whatsit keeping an eye on him.

Mirrored Aviators and that damnable cowboy hat and perfectly neutral expression on his face. Not even a twitch when Gavin tries to engage him in idle chatter, and that’s just disheartening.

There’s a chair sitting opposite Gavin, and he feels tired just looking at it knowing what’s to come. 

Offers and incentives and when those don’t work, out come the threats. When those don’t work, they’ll start with the so-called “demonstrations” that tend to leave scars. It never changes, as though all these people are working off the same script. No originality to them at all.

With Rimmy-whatsit doing his best impression of a statue, Gavin has four blank walls to stare out as he considers the situation he’s in and all the ways it could go badly for him if he doesn’t cooperate with them. (Better than it could be, because the Fakes, at least, can be reasoned with.)

At some point Mogar comes in with a medical kit and sees to the bullet graze on Gavin’s leg. There’s angry little scowl on his face, and this snarl in his voice as he looks at the makeshift bandage.

“The fuck is this?”

Gavin shrugs as well as he’s able given his binds. 

“Well,” he says, not quite sure what to make of the fact they’re giving him medical care. “Not like I could just pop down to the store to get medical supplies with you lot looking for me, now could I?”

It’s not just the Fakes Gavin’s talking about, but they’re the ones who gave him the most trouble. Never fell for any of his tricks or traps, and that had been more than a little annoying. 

Mogar growls, and Gavin has to bite back a laugh because he’s not sure it would be appreciated at the moment.

“Well good job on that one idiot, because it’s infected.”

Hmm, yes, it does seem to be, doesn’t it.

Red and angry and foul enough that Gavin can’t look at it without feeling nauseous, but Mogar’s careful about it as he cleans the graze and bandages it. Sits back on his heels and gives Gavin this odd look as though he wants to say something, but isn’t sure how to go about it.

“Thank you,” Gavin says, because his grandfather taught him manners, and there’s no reason not to use them now when Mogar’s shown him unexpected kindness.

“Let one of us know if it gets worse,” Mogar says, disgruntled look on his face as he leaves. 

========

Gavin spends another hour mapping various water stains on the ceiling before he decides enough time has passed that it won’t seem too suspicious to request a bathroom break. 

Close enough to the truth, and he didn’t get a good look around when they bundled him in here earlier. 

He’s not even sure where the damn place is located thanks to the armored car. (Helpful things, those, but by their nature not great for taking in the scenery, what with the armor plating over the windows and such.)

Rimmy-whatsit gives Gavin a deeply suspicious look, but apparently would rather Gavin try something stupid than make a mess while he’s stuck guarding him.

Gavin gets a brief look around on the way. Sees empty storage racks forming aisles on one side and a space for vehicles on one side. (No mystery what the warehouse is normally used for then, although the state of it implies it’s new property for the Fakes or hasn’t been used in some time.) 

They happen upon the Vagabond and Mogar along the way, the two of them arguing with someone over speakerphone. 

Rimmy-whatsit shrugs at them as they pass by, and then they reach the restroom.

“Don’t fucking think about trying anything,” Rimmy-whatsit warns as Gavin steps inside.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Gavin says brightly, and quickly does his business as he contemplates what he knows.

Honestly, it’s not a hopeless situation. 

While these three are hardly thrilled with him after what he’s put them through this past little while, they’ve treated him well. Gone so far to give him medical treatment, even, and that’s promising.

The warehouse is laid out about as he’d suspected and the lack of noise filtering through makes him think it’s somewhat isolated. At the very least not in a high traffic area, which - 

“You done in there?”

Gavin makes a face and looks around for something to dry his hands with and realizes too late there isn’t anything at all. He settles for shaking water off his hands best he can and opens the door to see Rimmy-whatsit eyeing him suspiciously.

“You’re out of paper towels,” Gavin says brightly, and holds his hands up.

Rimmy-whatsit sighs as he grabs Gavin’s arm and gives him a gentle push to get him moving.

“Sorry to hear that, pal. Sounds rough.”

=========

Gavin’s in the middle of formulating an escape plan. Terribly risky with a minimal chance of success, but awfully tempting all the same, when the door opens.

A pair of familiar figures walk in with the Vagabond and the others taking up flanking positions. (A bit overkill, really, considering Gavin’s not much of a threat at the moment.)

Ramsey and Patillo, and oh, what a day it’s been.

Gavin smiles, this tired little thing as Los Santos’ very own Kingpin strolls up to him, head tilted just so. 

“You’re the one who’s been giving everyone the run around?” he asks, like Gavin’s not at all what he expected, and honestly, Gavin gets that a lot.

He blames Vinewood.

All those dashing actors playing the parts of hackers in terribly cliché movies which just leads to disappointment when people meet him.

Gavin just looks at him, because first off, _rude_ , and secondly - 

Well, it’s not like this is going to go well for him, so he’s not about to make this easy on the bastard.

The corner of Ramsey’s mouth ticks up in this amused little smile as he glances to the Vagabond and the others. 

“Do you realize that these assholes have been trying to find you for a while now?”

Oddly enough, yes. 

Gavin is very much aware of that fact.

He’s lost the use of several safehouses and boltholes, called in favors on top of favors to slow them down. Feed them false information to buy Gavin just a little more time, and it’s been a bit of a bother, overall.

“Have they?” he asks, mimicking Ramsey. “I hadn’t noticed.”

Patillo snorts, smiling placidly when Ramsey shoots him a look.

“Jack?”

Patillo shakes his head, little smile on his face as he takes a step back, fading into the background, and Gavin goes very, very still.

He’s been warned about Patillo. 

Ramsey’s right-hand man and the one who handled the less glamorous aspects of a crew like the Fakes in its early days. Not much else is known about him aside from the largely unhelpful bits about him being an amazing pilot. Said to be quiet and mild-mannered in contrast to certain other members of his crew. (Until he’s not.)

Ramsey turns back to Gavin with this _look_ on his face. Gaze dropping to the bandage on his leg and Gavin -

“Michael looked at that for you?” he asks, sounding as though he’s genuinely concerned Gavin’s being taken care of while they have him tied to a chair in a warehouse. 

(Such a gracious host.)

Gavin glances at Mogar – Michael? He’s scowling a little even now, and it’s _charming_.

Such a grumpy bastard, that one. Snappish and snarlish and surprisingly kind under it all.

“He was lovely,” Gavin says with a little smile tacked on. “They’ve all been very, very lovely.”

The strangest thing about it is that they have, really. Despite the chase Gavin led them on and little inconveniences (somewhat annoying that that’s all amounted to in the end) he threw at them they’ve been more than hospitable.

Ramsey eyes him as though he’s trying to decide if Gavin’s manage to hit his head somewhere along the way or if he’s always been the way he is.

“Have they now,” he says, and now the man’s mimicking Gavin mimicking _him_ , as if things couldn’t get any more bizarre. “Interesting.”

They stare at each other for a long moment, and the whole thing must be too much for the others because -

“For fuck’s sake, get on with it, Geoff. We don’t have all fucking day for you two to dick around.”

“Michael has a point,” Ramsey says, and it looks like they’re finally going to get to the matter at hand.

Ramsey sits down in the chair across from Gavin and leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped together loosely as he studies Gavin. Calm and relaxed and very much in control.

And Gavin - 

He’s not exactly at his best right now, really. Tired and worn down, bit battered and bruised and that nasty bullet graze that’s made matter worse for him by becoming infected in spite of his best efforts.)

“You wouldn’t happen to be in the market for a job, would you?” Ramsey asks, definitely not at all what Gavin was expecting from him.

Gavin stares at him.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but the city’s in an uproar at the moment.” Ramsey pauses for dramatic effect. “Word on the street is that you’re the reason.”

Not so much Gavin himself as what he found. Bout of idle curiosity and the kind of luck that lands him in all kinds of interesting situations.

People always react badly when they realize their dirty little secrets aren’t quite as secure as they’d like. Go to great lengths in order to prevent them from being exposed, do all kinds of terrible things. (Especially politicians when they happen to have close ties with criminal organizations they’d rather the public not know about, such as Travis.)

Ramsey smiles, spreads his hands as he lays out an offer.

Contract work, by the sounds of it. Help them with a situation their pet hacker is having difficulties with – and no wonder when it involves the IAA’s database – and some intel that requires finesse to acquire. 

“You might have noticed,” Ramsey says, wry twist to his mouth as he gestures at the others. “These assholes wouldn’t know subtle it if bit them in the ass.”

The Fake AH Crew do have a reputation for being a bit...rambunctious.

“A bit, yes,” Gavin says, because his third favorite safehouse went up in flames thanks to them.

Ramsey snorts, and it’s an interesting process to watch the Kingpin facade melt away to reveal the man underneath it all. 

“Travis isn’t going to forget about you,” he says, as though they’re old friends catching up after a long time apart. “He’s got a long memory, and with as many...supporters he has in our line of work, he’s got the resources.”

And the will, because the man’s making a bid for city. 

Thinks the title of mayor would suit him wonderfully, and after that there are higher seats of power he plans to aim for. All of those dirty little secrets Gavin found would ruin him if they ever got out. 

Gavin says nothing, waiting to see - 

“We’re not exactly fans of the man ourselves,” Ramsey says with a grimace.

They wouldn’t be, would they. Not when Travis has been exceedingly vocal about “dealing with” the Fake AH Crew, has made it something of the basis of his campaign.

“I wouldn’t think so, no,” Gavin says, and knows what Ramsey wants.

Travis’ secrets, and in exchange they’ll offer him protection. 

It’s not the worst idea, really.

They’re known for being rambunctious, yes, but also for dealing fairly with those who deal fairly with them. Reputations for looking after their own, and little love for bastards like Travis and his ilk. (And somehow they’ve managed to do what no one else in this damned city has by somehow getting the Vagabond on board with them.)

At the very least, it will prove to be interesting.

“The IAA’s database you said?” Gavin asks, because he’s never tried something with that level of security to it.

“They think they own us,” Ramsey says, little flash of teeth to show what he thinks about that. “Keep coming to us to fix their mistakes, and it’s getting a little old.”

Oh, there’s clearly more to it than just that. (Too much anger in the man’s eyes for something as simple as that.)

Gavin should think about it, consider his options and all, but - 

“Sounds interesting,” Gavin says, because he could do worse for himself than see what this lot have to offer, where it might lead. “I wouldn’t mind giving things a try.”


End file.
